The sculptor's regret

She was almost nearly there
Her pursed lips and rye smile
Her grace and slender style
She was almost nearly there
Her prominent cheeks
Her sensual frown.
She was almost nearly there
Her soft gentle eyes,
Her lids hiding lies
And she was, oh-so nearly there.
It was her chin that failed to win me over
And as I tried to slice her guise
Her form was forever lost.
She was almost nearly here.